It Would Have Been Wonderful
by FloraxRose
Summary: He isn't used to being like this; he didn't think he knew how to be anything but reassured, confident to the point where even arrogance seemed to be a spot on the horizon behind him. But now she knows the truth, and that changes everything. St Berry.
1. Cry Me A River

**A/N****: OK, so here is my first foray into Glee and St Berry writing. I love this pairing and have wanted to write about them since they sang together in the library! I started writing this before Bad Reputations, so there may be a few allusions to them breaking up after "the music video", but it isn't a major plot point and they are together at the start. Should be pretty self explanatory apart from that. It's a 2 parter. I hope you guys enjoy!**

It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

He was supposed to be the one breaking her heart, not the other way around.

Still, Jesse St James found himself staring at the pink, scented paper that had her neat, cursive handwriting, feeling a little bit heartbroken. He'd opened his locker to find the note as it fluttered out, landing on the ground and immediately recognized who it was from, smiling subconsciously to himself. Normally he liked reading the sweet nothings that she'd send to him occasionally; they always screamed Rachel, like plaid skirts and gold stars. This note; however, just made him feel a little bit empty.

The words "_We need to talk"_ never boded well. You didn't have to know very much to know that.

When he walks towards the coordinates she gave him, (the auditorium, 4:00 sharp), he feels like somebody should be calling out "Dead man walking" or the appropriate equivalent. He is only just realising that losing Rachel Berry may be comparable to a lethal injection.

Because he doesn't know how or when or why it happened, but he's not sure he knows how to live without her anymore.

She's sitting on the piano stool, playing out solitary notes on the Steinway, when he walks in. He stops at the door for a moment to catch his breath.

He isn't used to being like this; he didn't think he knew how to be anything but reassured, confident to the point where even arrogance seemed to be a spot on the horizon behind him. Now he just feels an impending sense of doom, with no Sondheim autobiographies or props to hide behind. He'd needed that façade of strength, so he tries to get it back and regulate his breathing, repeating a mantra of self-assurance, before coughing to get Rachel's attention.

She starts, whipping her head around to meet his gaze. Her pensive (dare he say hopeful) look fails her as their eyes meet, and it is replaced by one of disappointment, dread and a flicker of anger. More than anything, she seems to have lost that ever optimistic sparkle in her eyes. Replacing it is a slow exhalation of misspent breath

A part of him was hoping that the ending of their relationship came because she wants Finn, or that Puck boy, or wants to put Glee first.

She doesn't have to say a word for him to know that she's found out his secret mission.

And that just makes his heart break a little more. Not only are they done, and his covert Vocal Adrenaline mission has been compromised, but he has no chance of winning her back from this, his ultimate betrayal.

"Rachel…" He does his best to deliver her name strongly, but something tells him he doesn't deserve to even utter it. His normally repressed conscience is having a field day with this, sending him swathes of guilt and remorse for putting his career and his team above them in a way that she hadn't.

"Shelby put you up to this." She tells him from the stage, as she gestures between them, and he looks at the floor. It is a fact, not a question. She knows the truth, but it doesn't empower her. She thinks that she might have, maybe, been a little bit in love with him like she had never been in love before, and discovering his deceit has not put New Directions one step ahead of Vocal Adrenaline, but succeeded on reducing their star to a mess- not that she'd show _him_ that.

"She put you up to this, and you agreed, because you care about winning, not about the carcasses you leave strewn in your path". She's getting into her anger now, dictating his actions to perfection, with a hint of Berry-esque melodrama thrown in for good measure.

This is the first time he realises that her opinion of him really does mean the world to him. All the bad reviews on Earth would fade to dust if only she praised him. He's going to say something, try and defend himself, redeem himself in her eyes, but she cuts him off.

"I have one question, before I send you back to your real team." Rachel says _real team_ with a bitterness he has never seen in her before. He just nods; he owes her an answer to anything she asks him at this point. He goes through a list of what she might enquire; _Did you ever have feelings for me? What was the point? How much have you leaked? Why me? Why go through all the trouble?_ Maybe, if he just formulates a diplomatic response…

"When did she sic you on me? On McKinley?" She asks, and he's genuinely taken aback. It wasn't what he was expecting. But when he thinks about it, it makes sense. She wants to know at what point did their relationship become a lie, or was it always one.

For the first time since entering the auditorium, Jesse speaks more than just her name, "She sent me to see you lot at Sectionals, to scope out the competition. And you were good. There were issues, flaws, but you did it on the fly and you were good. Shelby started hatching up plans, none of which included me spying through you, but then we met in the music store, and somehow word got back to her about our date and….It wasn't orchestrated from the start. That first time I did genuinely ask you out."

Rachel still stands on the stage, with Jesse a few rows back in the audience. She tries to resist the urge to scoff at him saying that he genuinely asked her out _the first time_. What about all those other times? The concerts and the movies? What about the time that he tried to pressure her into losing her virginity? Those times, was he just there to gather information? Or to wait until she was so in love with him, and had given everything she possibly could to him, so he could break her clean in two?

Forget scoffing, she feels an unfamiliar sick feeling in her stomach as bile scorches the back of her throat.

"Ok." It is so far from ok, but Rachel replies definitively, as if she is putting the matter to bed.

"Ok?" Comes the questioning reply from Jesse.

"Yes. Ok." She reiterates. "Obviously, I am going to have to terminate our relationship, but I assume you already knew that." He hates the way those words sound when they fall from her lips. _Terminate._ It seems so clinical to him, so completely apart from her and her passion and what their relationship stood for (if you didn't include the lying bit). Jesse just nods because really, he doesn't have the right or the voice to do anything else.

"You should also know that this won't affect New Directions." Rachel continues, because she's stronger than Shelby gave her credit for, and she's really quite ruthless underneath all those smiles and acts of kindness. He thinks that maybe when she says New Directions, she means herself, but a selfish part of him really hopes that she doesn't, because he _wants_ her to be affected by him, to carry him round in her heart like he knows he'll always carry her around in his. "Finn can take the leads that Mr Schuester gave to you, and I'm not going to let this ruin our chances at Regionals. I won't let you get in the way of my dreams."

And suddenly it hits him. She may not want him in the way of her dreams, but he can't fathom her not being in the way of his. And he realises that she isn't just in the way of them anymore, she's one of them. He both loves and hates her for worming her way past his defences. He's never needed anyone but himself before.

So he has to ask, even if she's walking off the stage, because he can't let her go knowing that he didn't even try.

"Rachel!" He says her name and her retreating body freezes. She doesn't turn around and he knows it's because she's too stubborn and proud to let him see her cry, but she's stopped, so she's listening.

"You forgave Finn, after everything he did to you, every time, you forgave him and he didn't even have to ask. And you forgave the rest of them, for all the times they ever were rude or hurt you or threw a slushie at you, and they weren't even looking to repent." She turns around now, having somehow managed to dry her tears, but not hiding the red that laces her eyes. "I guess…what I'm saying is….Well, I'm looking and I'm asking and…" He sucks in a breath of air through his teeth before continuing, "Can you ever forgive me for this?"

He's never stumbled for words before, never in his life, but something about her standing up there, always the one to take the blame, makes his mouth go dry and his language fail him. He knows what the repercussions of this will be. She brought him into this fold, so she'll have to take the fall for his lies, she'll be held accountable, and she'll be ostracized for his sins. Still, he sees something filter into her eyes, like maybe she's considering what he's asking, and whilst _right now_ is not an option for them, maybe _someday_ will be.

But then she goes and says one word, two letters, and walks away from him for good.

"No."

* * *

When she tells the Glee Club, she doesn't know what to expect.

Finn, as promised, can't look at her, not even long enough to muster up an "I told you so."

Santana and Brittany bitch, as per usual, and call her on the shit that she's brought into their group, the group that was doing just fine beforehand. She isn't sure Puck even heard, so engrossed is he in his phone and whatever text he's just been sent. Mike, Artie, Matt and Tina just look each other, and then at her, trying to be sympathetic whilst trying not to be really mad, but she can see it in their eyes, that this is her fault.

It's Quinn that surprises her, by standing up and shooting looks that could kill at the rest of the club. She envelopes Rachel into a hug, one that the brunette eventually relaxes into, and that, somehow, pieces her together a little bit.

Although that isn't to say that she isn't still completely broken.

Mercedes and Kurt join in and it's just the four of them, being stared at by the rest of the club, who are all looking at them like they have no idea what they suddenly have in common.

But really, it's so simple and so human and so binding.

They all know what it's like to have their hearts broken, really _broken_; Quinn after baby-gate and then in her ensuing relationship with Puck, Kurt constantly with Finn, and Mercedes all that time ago with Kurt.

Mr Schuester keeps her behind after the practice is over, and all she can seem to do is apologise and berate herself for her stupidity, and before she knows it she's crying hysterically in front of her teacher, who just lets her cry. He tells her that it's ok, and that she isn't to blame, and that it's just as much his fault, for letting him into New Directions in the first place, and she really believes that he understands at least a part of her guilt.

After she recovers from her meltdown, she resolves that she's done crying over a boy who deceived her for the better part of their relationship. He was nothing, and they were evidently nothing, and she still has a whole lot of dreams that she needs to work towards.

Following that day, she builds up a tougher skin. She isn't so haphazard with her heart and forthcoming with her feelings, but you can still hear it in her voice when she sings. The sparkle returns to her eye slowly, and her smile once again takes up its permanent residence on her face, even if it's a little less genuine and takes a little more effort to keep it there. She learns to laugh when Jacob makes more passes at her and she finds herself becoming closer and closer to Kurt, Mercedes and Quinn, like they all have something unsaid that's still there, even if they're moving on.

When they get to Regionals, she has prepared herself for seeing him, and is ready to put on her best show face teemed with some pretty awesome jazz hands and win the competition. He fluffs a high note when he sees her really smiling at him. It's disconcerting and not at all what he expected and he doesn't know what to think about it, and his performance suffers for it. Afterwards, he sees the devilish glint in her eye as she nods to Mercedes, and he knows that they planned this, planned to psyche him out, and he can't really find it in himself to blame them for it. If Vocal Adrenaline were planning on winning through cheating, they didn't really deserve to win.

And this time, when she opens her mouth to belt out the opening song they've chosen she's flawless in a way she wasn't before. It seems crazy, but her voice is a little more full of _something_, maybe a little more world-weary and experienced. He thinks maybe he had something to do with that, and even though he still misses everything about them and hates that he hurt her, he can at least see a silver lining in that.

When New Directions are awarded top place, he's not surprised. Rachel gave the performance of a lifetime and she pulls that little group that could up to a level that most wouldn't even dare to dream of. Even Shelby gives Will a begrudging congratulations before mumbling something about how she should have poached Rachel for Vocal Adrenaline, not targeted her.

He's happy that she's happy, or at least he is until he sees Finn lean down, and whisper something into her ear that looks a lot like "I'm sorry", and that makes his blood boil with jealousy and anger and a whole lot of other things he knows he has no right feeling. He can't lip read, but Rachel looks contemplative as Finn keeps talking, and then a wide grin bursts onto her features as she nods her head vigorously before turning to the boy who isn't him and is swept up in his arms, and twirled around, and kissed without an ulterior motive.

Jesse just thinks he needs to break something, preferably Finn's nose.

Because of course they can get their shit together, and she can forgive Finn and Finn can forgive her (although he is adamant that Rachel shouldn't have to be forgiven). He hates that she won't make the effort for him.

When they lock eyes on the stage, she looks guilty for what he just had to witness, but Jesse decides he's done looking apologetic for her (even though he genuinely is). He tried that and she told him to pretty much go to hell. So he smirks that arrogant smirk of his, and that little speck of guilt he saw in her eyes is replaced by anger. He likes that even though she got under his skin earlier, he can still get under hers.

It isn't all bad either. He's named Male Vocalist of the night, and unsurprisingly she gets the female equivalent. They don't have to talk, or duet, or anything, but it means that she can't really gloat, because he still won all by himself, even after missing a note. To him the competition proves his vocals, and whilst getting the same award at Nationals may have made him even more assured, this isn't something many people can claim to have been awarded four times, and Finn can't even say he's gotten it once.

He hears when she wins Nationals, as well as Female Vocalist there. He smiles to himself when he discovers that Finn, once again, does not garner any individual recognition. He feels a little smug about it too, even though he supposes he isn't really in competition with Finn anymore.

When he starts to think more deeply about it, his smugness fades, because Finn still gets to hold and love and cherish the only girl he can ever imagine could have matched him.

Still, by the end of the year he's out of Ohio, and moving on to his new life in Los Angeles. And whilst things don't start happening for him as quickly as he'd like, that doesn't mean things don't start happening. He lands small roles, with a couple of lines, and he sings in a choir that sings the backing vocals on an album that gets onto the Billboard, and at some point he moves onto bigger parts, and he starts getting noticed at all the open mics he's been doing, and after three years in California he's choosing between a recording contract and a pilot.

He goes with the pilot- singing reminds him a little too much of her at times and after they sang together, duets don't seem to fit right with anybody else.

He has girlfriends, plenty of them. The closest he got to something meaningful was Katie, who was on a choral scholarship to UCLA, but when he sang with her, her voice swelled whilst his dimmed and something was always off. He loved her for a time, and she loved him too, but she loved him more than he could ever reciprocate and at some point she realised that she deserved more than he could give her. He was a little heartbroken when she left, but he was eligible and talented and extremely charming and he wasn't single for long.

He's pretty sure that the nature of his relationships have had little to do with Rachel, and what they had when they were, in reality, just kids. He doesn't need a ball and chain right when he's taking flight, and that's what all those girls were to him; a dead weight he'd have to carry.

Still, Rachel wasn't exactly dead weight. She had some pretty lofty aspirations too.

The next he hears of Rachel Berry is a year later. His pilot got picked up, and both the critics and the audience seem to adore it, and whilst he doesn't _love_ his cast mates, he likes them enough to tolerate their baggage.

He's hiding from fans behind a newspaper when he sees a picture of her in the reviews of the New York Times. She's playing the female lead in a new show on Broadway and she's already being tipped for a Tony nomination for her "perfect portrayal of imperfection" (so the journalist writes). She looks beautiful in the still image of her that they print, with her chocolate hair falling across her face as she bows her head, singing for herself and to herself so that a whole world can see.

He buys the paper and keeps the review in his desk draw. He manages to convince himself he's just being nostalgic.

But still, he can't help thinking what would have happened if she'd given him the hope that he so desperately wanted when he asked for her forgiveness. He thinks maybe it's a good thing that she said no, because they're both making waves in their own ways and their dreams are coming true. If she'd forgiven him, he may have gone to New York, or maybe she'd be in L.A. and neither of those places would be where they should have been.

Still, if he sees her name, he'll buy the publication, and cut out the article, and at some point the few pieces of paper in his desk drawer turn into a box full of them that he shoves at the back of his closet.

He wonders if she watches his show, or keeps his interviews and reviews in a box somewhere. He finds himself wishing that she's just as _nostalgic_ as he is.

The truth is, she is (she screamed at her TV the first time she saw him on it, playing a postman who was on air for about 2 seconds. She still has that episode TiVo-ed), and she does (well, not a box, so much as an organized scrapbook).

Still, they haven't talked since high school, and they're coasts apart, as well as totally irreconcilable.

So they both convince themselves that _nostalgia_ is all that they'll ever feel towards each other.

(It isn't)

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters. If I did, Bad Reputation would have ended differently....**

**Please review! The second part is nearly done, and the more well received this is, the quicker it'll be up!**


	2. How Soon Is Now?

**A/N: Thank you all for the reviews on the last chapter! I was so touched by the response! I am so sorry that I didn't manage to get this out sooner. I genuinely thought I had maybe 500 more words to write, and it turned out I had a few more (so many more, in fact, that I'm extending this story by 1 more chapter, so it is now a three parter). I also wasn't really happy with this chapter for a long while, and kept on redrafting it. **

**The characters of Jesse and Rachel are a little more OOC in this chapter, but remember that they've both had a lot of time to grow up and develop.**

* * *

After doing five seasons of a show that he once loved, he's glad his contract is finally up. He's 26 years old, and he thinks his cast mates have all let the fame get to them (they really aren't as talented as they think they are) and have turned into prima donnas (and coming from Jesse St James that must mean they're pretty bad) and he just really misses performing live. He misses the instant gratification that comes from having an audience applaud you after a performance that you've just given your all. He misses theatre and music and all those things that once were his oxygen.

He tells his agent to start looking for auditions he can go to, either in New York or London. He hears of a few that are just looking to add his name and star power to their roster, so he swiftly moves on, looking for something else, something more. He wants a show that wants Jesse without the St James. He wants a show that wants _him_ not just the publicity he will invariably bring.

Eventually he gets an audition for a new original show, and it's very Sondheim circa _A Little Night Music_ and it similarly documents the lives of several couples and their romantic experiences. The score is one of the most promising he's ever seen, and it both juxtaposes and blends with the story fantastically. The ensemble has already been decided upon, although they are yet to be announced, but the male lead that had been attached to the project was offered another show and left, so the role is being recast and he finds himself really setting his heart on it.

It is only a half hour after his audition he's told that he's gotten the part, and he can't exactly say he's surprised. The role is perfect for him; a much better fit than his on screen role, and he got plenty of awards for that, and the music that was written for the part seems to have been created with his voice in mind.

He feels that the counterpart female role was made for Rachel too, but maybe that's just wishful thinking.

He finds an apartment that's in prime position. It isn't pretentious (despite being a penthouse), but it's nice, and it's right on Broadway, and he can see the theatres and the lights from his bedroom. He doesn't mind the noises that blare all night and the smells that waft in through the window because it's all part of an atmosphere that he's discovered he loves. He realises that he doesn't care that it all reminds him of Rachel, because it reminds him of himself as well. He belongs in this city as much, if not more so, than he belongs in L.A., and he's just beginning to see that.

The Great White Way seems to hold all the cards that Hollywood Boulevard doesn't anymore.

He didn't know he hadn't been smiling genuinely in L.A. for a good few years until he woke up after his first night in the city that never sleeps.

But now that he is again, he doesn't plan on stopping anytime soon.

* * *

She's been busy in the years that she's been in New York. Her first ever Broadway role landed her a Tony, and she didn't think she'd ever been so proud of herself and undeserving all at the same time. Really she just got lucky because she was in a show she was passionate about with friends surrounding her, great music and great direction

Still, it didn't hurt to get the buzz that comes with winning such a prestigious award. She keeps it in her bathroom, because she read Kate Winslet does that, and the idea keeps her grounded. She's always been a fan of metaphors, and this one reminds her that it can all go down the toilet in the blink of an eye if she doesn't keep working.

She's single, for the most part, largely because she hasn't met anybody who really makes her want to slow down. As soon as she's done with one show, she's onto the next, whether it be an original or an ongoing musical. There isn't really time for domesticity outside of her work, but she doesn't complain because her job is her first love so she thinks it's ok that she hasn't found something that can trump it.

And despite his betrayal, she still tunes in every week to see Jesse on his show. She always knew he was talented, but so did he, and she loves that she can tell he plays his character with a hint of modesty that he never showed anyone in high school. She hopes that now she's got some of that too. When she hears he's quit the show, she thinks that it'll only last one season without him, because he was what made the thing exceptional. She can understand his motives for leaving though; she's met a few of his co-stars and they're all god-awful, with no respect for anyone who won't give them a good photo op.

This morning she's particularly upbeat. It's her first day on a new job and she's heading to the first read through with the new cast (or at least with the one new cast member who she hasn't met yet). The man who was supposed to play her love interest dropped out because he thought he'd get more press if he moved on to a bigger, more expensive ongoing production. She was mad for a while, at his disloyalty and lack of trust in their cast and the musical, but she's moved on (plus, she's heard his replacement is even _better_ and she can't wait to see who it is).

She's been working with getting this project off the ground for a while now. It was pitched to her a couple of years ago, and she fell in love with it. She's been helping with it ever since, whilst keeping her other obligations on the go until the time came for this one to lift off. She's literally buzzing with anticipation now that the moment has finally come.

And ok, maybe she'll accept that it was a bad idea for her to stop off at Starbucks on the way; it isn't as though she needs the caffeine adding to her excitement.

As she walks in to the room that's set up with tables for the read through, her smile grows a little wider (she didn't think that was possible) and she is positively bubbling with enthusiasm.

However, almost instantaneously, her face falls.

She'd recognized that perfectly coiffed hair anywhere.

Suddenly the coffee isn't a problem anymore; it's all over the floor so she's not going be drinking any of it this morning.

He turns around to see what the splash was that sounded behind him. He didn't expect to see Rachel Berry standing frozen to the spot, staring at him like she'd just seen a ghost. He supposes that in many ways he was a ghost though, one from a past that she probably doesn't wish to rehash.

"Jesse" The name escapes her lips as a whisper, but he hears it loud and clear. In fact, the entire room hears it loud and clear, as everyone in it has noticed the staring match going on between the two leads and they're trying to figure out exactly what is happening.

It's the director, Stephen, who breaks their gaze, and returns the room to a cacophony of noise, as he announces that the read-through will begin in 15 minutes. People start bustling, preparing themselves and diverting their attention away from their two leads and the spilt coffee.

"Jesse!" Stephen exclaims as he walks up and shakes his hand vigorously. It breaks Jesse from his trance as he blinks away the image of Rachel and focuses on his director. "It's good to see you."

Jesse smiles in return, that mega-watt smile that got him famous in the first place, and replies in kind to Stephen. They begin a few seconds of banal small talk before Jesse trusts himself to look over at Rachel again, or at least where Rachel was, as her spot is now vacant, with the brown pool of liquid on the ground steaming and her nowhere in sight. He's glad she ran in many ways, because if she hadn't, he's pretty sure he would have. Come to think of it, he could do with some fresh air to remind him that he is not dreaming, or having a nightmare, or whatever seeing Rachel again was.

After he's excused himself he walks straight back out of the entrance he just came in through, assuming that Rachel chose a different escape route. Hopefully their absence would not be noticeable.

He just needed a few seconds alone...

"What the hell are you doing here?" Her voice rings through his ears and he turns around to face her. She's standing behind him, with her arms folded across her chest and a scowl gracing her normally content features.

So much for that moment of quiet meditation.

"I'm here for the read through." He points out obviously, because he knows that it'll annoy her. If she's mad, then so is he, and whilst he isn't angry at her per se, he's pretty damn good at deflecting.

She scoffs at his answer, and gives him a look that tells him that she's expecting more. He isn't sure why he feels obliged to give it to her. He may have done some pretty bad stuff over the course of their fleeting relationship, but she wasn't faultless as far as things go. He forgave her for the music video, and the insecurity and the neuroticism.

"I didn't know you'd be here." He answers, and though he's giving her a valid explanation, his manner is still pointed, "If I had, I wouldn't have auditioned, trust me."

"Trust you? Been there, done that, felt the heartache." She replies and he winces (where once upon a time he would have laughed at her for being a drama queen). He's never forgiven himself for that, but it was years in the past. He supposes he shouldn't be surprised though, she'd told him explicitly that there was no chance of her ever forgiving him, and she always did have a flair for the dramatic.

"Rachel." He says as he raises his eyes to meet hers. "That's not fair."

She knows it isn't, that their rancid history is just that; history. What happened was years ago when they were different people, and she can't blame him for that, or at least she _shouldn't _blame him for that. She should give him the benefit of the doubt, and respect him as her talented colleague. She should be professional and cordial, and move past whatever happened back in Ohio.

But she doesn't, because despite the fact that she's grown up, moved on, and is normally quite rational nowadays, there is something about Jesse St James that affects her in a way it really shouldn't (especially when he's looking as good as he is). So she continues on her tack of childishness.

"And you know all about what's fair, right?" She mocks him, and she sees him restrain himself. She was right to think maybe he's a little more humble and level headed than he was in high school, and she maintains that normally she is too. But normally she isn't faced with a boy who broke her heart in a way that nobody else has.

"Rachel." He says her name again, but this time it sounds a little more like a warning, like he doesn't want to fight her, but he will if she doesn't stop.

She wants to fight him though, because they never really did that, they never really just shouted at each other. When they had broken up previously, it had always been thoroughly justified, with one ending relations and the other just accepting the consequence of their actions. But she didn't want to just accept this, she wanted to scream and kick and let him know that she was strong and didn't need him.

"You know all about what's right and wrong? Is that it? What's black and white? And you've always stayed on the right side of that line? Never even looked into the grey area of morality?" She taunts him, hoping to elicit some sort of reaction, but he just stands, diverting his anger into fists, keeping his distance and not engaging. She wonders if he realises that that riles her up even more.

"What the hell do you know Jesse? Last I checked you were an egotistical ass who only cared about himself. We don't need _that_ in this production."

She knows she's gone too far the moment she's said it, but it's too late and she sees the anger and hurt blaze in his eyes. She doesn't know that that's her aim until it happens. She doesn't realize she's trying to cause him some of the pain he caused her until it's too late to take it back.

Because she knows he'll pick up the thinly veiled subplot of her argument; that _she_ doesn't want _or _need that in _her_ life.

"You know what, Rachel?" He spits out venomously in reply, finally rising to her challenge, "I fucked up 9 _years _ago. _That_ is the last time you '_checked_' as to what sort of person I was. So get off your high horse and move on. I have." That accusation causes her to look at the ground, genuinely a little ashamed for pushing him so far. Her stance still remains cold though, and he knows that that's as close as he's going to get her to feeling humble. He softens his voice a little as he continues, "I'm sorry for what I did, truly I am, but I'm not going to apologize for it anymore. It happened, and there isn't anything either of us can do to change that, but what I did changed me, and I hope it was for the better. I really wish that in the future you'll see that I'm not-how did you phrase it?- an egocentric ass. If you don't then that's your prerogative and I won't hold it against you, but I hope you do."

He moves to walk inside and brushes past her. They've got two minutes until the table read and he doesn't want to be late, he doesn't want to screw this up.

"We have a really great opportunity here to be a part of something amazing" He tells her, because he truly believes it, and he needs her to know he's serious about the journey on which they are about to embark. He can tell this means the world to her, and it might just be the best role she's ever had. He needs her to know that it means the world to him too. "I don't want to mess this up with the shit that happened when dinosaurs still roamed the Earth."

She looks at him and thinks for a moment, before nodding hesitantly. She wouldn't ever admit it, not even if there was a gun to her head, but there was a part of her that always wanted him to play her male lead anyway, as nobody else had ever fit quite as well. It takes her a second, but she resolves to make this work no matter what, because together they are lightning in a bottle and she knows that.

"Rachel" She says as she sticks out her hand. He looks at her, perplexed for a second, before he cottons on to what she's doing, and what she's referring to. They are meeting again, a fresh start, learning who they are now outside of what they used to know.

He smiles at her before reaching out and shaking her small palm. She smiles back, melting his heart just a little, as he replies, "Jesse".

And she doesn't know why she does it, or why she says it as softly and sweetly as she does, but she finds herself answering him with a hark back to their past that makes him hope, although he isn't sure what for.

"I know who you are."

* * *

"Nervous?" She asks, with a glint in her eye as he wrings his hands. He nods at her, with a small smile. He loves that she cares to ask. Everyone else is too busy preparing themselves to notice him, but not her. He sees a flash of sympathy through her, before she breaks the moment.

"I remember when I used to get nervous."

He laughs, remembering when he said those same words to her. When she whispers in his ear that that was payback for the music store, he knows that she's just making excuses, and she knows it too. She said it because he feels a little brighter, and a little bit more confident now, knowing that, in some way, he has Rachel Berry on his side.

Since the read through, they've developed a relationship. He wouldn't call it strong, with unshakeable foundations, but they've learned to completely trust each other professionally, and they're getting better on the personal side. Everyone in the cast and crew can see their chemistry when they're working, and when they're not, but they've convinced themselves that it's something that they just turn on and off. They'll meet up for drinks with friends, or catch lunch together when their rehearsal breaks coincide, but there is always something palpable and unsaid between them. Still, if he's having a bad day, it's her that will know what to say to cheer him up, and vice versa. They have a 'kindred spirit' thing going on, and they turn to each other when they need someone. When her cat died, it was him that she cried to, and when his ex-castmate lied in an interview about the circumstances in which he left the show, it was her that he ranted to.

At most though, at least on an acknowledged level, they are just friends offstage.

Still, neither will contest that whilst onstage they are everything to each other.

He peeks back through the curtain again and he sees more people filter into their seats in the theatre. This is it, opening night, his chance to be great at something he loves, and do it with some he...

As soon as the thought crosses his mind he pushes it aside and rationalizes. He loves and respects Rachel's talent, and he loves and respects her as a person, but is he _in love_ with her?

No. (Yes).

Three men and two women that he vaguely recognizes walk to the centre of the second row. He tries to place them, but it's hard to make out features from where he's standing, and he can't quite. That is, he can't until Rachel pushes him out of his position and sees the group sit down, a smile lighting across her face.

"They're here." She says to him whilst he racks his brain for who "they" might be. So they're her friends, and he can tell they aren't from New York, so they're from Lima presumably. It clicks then, that Puck, Finn, Kurt, Mercedes and Quinn are the ragtag group that have just sat down. "Crap, they'll never let me live it down if I screw something up."

"Nervous?" He asks cheekily, and she smacks him softly on the shoulder in return. "Well at least they don't hate you, unlike me...the arch-nemesis of McKinley High's glee club." He puts on a mock horror voice and she laughs, because it's Jesse, and his amateur dramatics seem to make her smile. It sort of puts into perspective what she used to be like (and sometimes still is), with her tendency towards the exaggerated and proclamations of "dying emotionally".

"Yeah well, all I'm saying is that I better have a lead tomorrow. I should probably warn them that your understudy isn't ready to replace you just yet. They'll just have to come back and kill you later."

"Lucky me." He says sarcastically. She sticks out her tongue defiantly at him before he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, all the while smiling. He likes that this time around they've developed a relationship in which they can joke without the other taking it seriously or misconstruing the meaning. He likes who is with her as an adult, and who she is with him.

"Five minutes 'til starting positions." The call comes round and he finds an alien hand worming its way into his. He looks at Rachel and she just shrugs, as if it's the most natural thing in the world to hold his hand to settle both of them. Their breathing steadies and she tells him that he's gonna blow them all away, whilst he tells her the same thing. When they separate to take up their starting positions it happens begrudgingly on both their parts, and he misses the way her small hand fitted perfectly into his larger palm, and warmed it, as soon as it is gone.

From the moments the lights come up on stage, he can tell there is something momentous about what they're doing and about how they're doing it. 20 years down the road this show will still be on Broadway, in this theatre, because there is something so magical about it. But it's more than that, it's more than the music and the script, it's the people who are acting it out, living it out so that a whole world can see. Rachel is more than flawless in the role, she's divine, and he isn't half bad either. In rehearsal and dress rehearsal they were good, great even, but something about tonight just works in a way that it hasn't before. When they take their bows at the end of the evening, he holds his head high and grasps Rachel's hand tightly as the audience stands to congratulate what they have achieved. When he looks at her, he sees tears slip down her cheek as pure exultation overtakes her and moves her. He beams back and envelopes her in a consuming hug before they face the crowd again and bow deeply.

Once backstage they are inundated with flowers and more congratulations. Stephen makes a speech, followed by the producers adding their respective pieces. It takes about 45 minutes before they manage to get back into their adjacent dressing rooms and start preparing to leave the theatre and go home.

He's putting on his shirt when he catches sight of her leaning against the doorframe of his room through his mirror. He pulls down the white material and smoothes it out against his skin before turning around to look at her. She's glowing, and no matter how hard she tries she can't help but have a smile on her face.

"How long have you been standing there?" He asks and she shrugs and makes her way into his dressing room, laying herself out on his sofa. He notices her top ride up a little as she stretches out on the cushions in front of him.

"Long enough to see you have a scar on your back that wasn't there before." She answers, although she isn't sure why. Of course she was looking at his shirtless body (what girl wouldn't?) but he didn't need to know that.

She kind of loves, and kind of hates, that she embarrasses herself on a daily basis around him. There just seems to be something about that boy that lowers her defences and raises her expectations all at the same time.

"I was in a car accident when I first got to L.A. Drunk driver hit me." He explains in a nonchalant manner, knowing that she was curious as to where it had come from without her having to say a word. "Nothing serious but it left a mark."

"Well good thing you can take the subway, or walk in the Big Apple then." She replies, as though she needs to give him reasons why New York was better than his previous residence. He didn't need her rationalizing though, he could think of a pretty good reason and it was stretched out, in an unintentionally sexy way on his couch.

"Yeah, no car accident, but muggers with guns and knives are so much better." He argues back in a playful tone, and she gives him a fake glare, before replying.

"They just never got hugged. It isn't their fault." He laughs at that and at her impetuous and defiant tone. He'll concede defeat and they both know it, because she'll pout and he won't have the heart to deny her. He just shakes his head and she smiles and sits upright because she knows that means that she got the last word, which is all she wants. He'll give it to her whenever she needs it.

"You were great tonight." He tells her genuinely and she shrugs, because she knows it's true, and she isn't going to cheapen the experience with false modesty. It isn't arrogant, it's just honest, and she knows that Jesse will understand that her not replying in kind is just her way of saying that he was kind of amazing too.

"You going out tonight?" She asks, changing the topic as she straightens her clothes. It's only then that he notices that she looks smart, in black boots, skinny jeans and a blazer over her top. Normally she just comes to the theatre in sweats, or casuals, having ditched the animal sweaters and tartan in for a more favourable, age appropriate, look (still, she'll wear the pink, sparkly leg warmers until her last day on the stage).

"Thought I'd just crash. Busy day tomorrow, you know?"

And before she even thinks about how her friends will take it, or how it might look, she finds herself inviting him to come for drinks with her. He's sceptical ("Wouldn't it be weird? They all sort of hate me." He reasons with her) but she really does want him there. They just shared so much together onstage, and she doesn't want that euphoric feeling she has in her stomach to go away. She gets the idea that if Jesse's around, it won't.

"Don't be such a baby. They'll be fine. Plus they just sat through three hours of watching you perform and there were no heckles! And they clapped you when you bowed." She tries to cajole him, but he's still hesitant. A part of him thinks that they've come so far, and if he hangs around with the people that were pushing them apart at the very beginning all that progress may collapse.

So he makes up more excuses, "That's because I was bowing with you. They weren't going to stop applauding then, were they?"

She can't be bothered to continue this fight. He's very good with words (and with talking circles around even her) when he wants to be, and she can tell that right now he wants to be. He's scared of her friends, and she can understand that, but there's something else that he isn't telling her, another reason that he's holding back from her.

All that doesn't matter though, because she knows that they'll all get over their reservations after a few drinks (that, or somebody is going home with a black eye), and he knows it too. Plus, it's their opening night and it just went down a treat; they both deserve to go out and celebrate that together.

So she pulls out the big guns and opts for a look instead of a comeback.

Her bottom lip juts out (although not enough to be comical) and she widens her warm chocolate orbs, allowing them to grow more glassy as she pleads with him. He looks away almost immediately, because he knows exactly what she's trying to pull and if he looks at her then he's fucked. He'll give her whatever she wants if she gives him that goddamn look.

But really, he doesn't want to get punched in the face. He's been on the receiving end of Puck's right hook before (after Rachel broke up with him and he returned to Vocal Adrenaline, Puck gave him a little physical comeuppance for his actions) and he didn't want to feel his wrath for a second time. Once was quite enough to last him a lifetime.

And maybe, more importantly, he doesn't want to have to see Finn and Rachel together again. He could see Rachel's original obsession gazing at her from the audience with a look of love that nearly broke Jesse's heart. He doesn't see himself as in competition with the taller boy anymore, and he doesn't want that to change. He doesn't want to get jealous when he has no right or reason to. He doesn't want to have to deal with an insecurity that he can't even acknowledge on a conscious level.

In all honesty, he is perfectly content forgetting that Finn was ever a part of his life, or was in the audience, or was waiting for Rachel right now. He is more than happy pretending that Rachel never loved and cherished her old co-star unconditionally, in a way she never had with him. He is fine with repressing the lack of justification as to why that was the case, why she loved Finn differently, why she loved the other boy better.

But despite all of this and despite all of his attempts not to let them, somehow, his eyes are drawn back to the magnetic girl sitting on his sofa, doing her best to break him down. He must be a masochist, because as soon as they've locked eyes he knows he's a sucker. He'll be out having champagne with a bunch of the New Directions kids in a half hour, because she's too precious a thing to say no to. He knows that she's playing him like a fiddle, of course he does, but that doesn't mean he won't give in. He may be stubborn, but he's not stupid, and when Rachel Berry gives you _that_ look, nobody has the power, or the right, to say no.

Still, he plays it out because he can, holding her gaze for a good two minutes before breaking down finally. It's potentially one of the longest spells either of them have gone in silence, but they're both trying to get their way (or at least Rachel is, Jesse is just trying to prolong the time before Rachel gets her way) so it drags on. Jesse doesn't speak when he concedes, just lets out an exhalation of breath and nods at her wearily. He won't give her everything so he makes her resume the conversation.

She just runs at him and throws her arms around his neck, which nearly knocks them both off balance, but he manages to somehow keep his footing.

"It'll be fun." She promises, with all her cheer and vigour restored after her brief guilt trip. He just scoffs a little and rolls his eyes whilst she ignores him and launches into mini-biographies of the people that are waiting for her, well, for them now, as if he'd never met or known any of them. If it were anyone else, he might have been agitated by this oversight, but he can't find himself to be annoyed with her, as she starts to describe the horrors of Quinn's delivery in detail, and how it finally managed to get Puck to reform.

When they get outside, they are inundated with audience members offering their congratulations and praise. Tears are shed for them and lives are changed by them and all in all, it isn't a bad feeling. In fact, it somehow manages to stave off a large portion of his dread as he notes Rachel's eyes scanning the crowd.

He purposefully keeps his head bowed, supposedly in humility and grace.

Really he just wants to be a little more incognito. He doesn't dare think what may happen if they spot him first.

As the crowd of well-wishers dissipates he hears Rachel's mewl of excitement and knows she's spotted her unlikely group. In the infamous words of Michael Jackson, This Is It. He raises his head from the last of the autographs that he's signing and watches as she's swept into the arms of Quinn, followed by everyone else. When she reaches Finn, they both do that awkward shall we/ shan't we hug dance, before she wraps her arms loosely around his waist.

In all honesty, she isn't half as excited that he's here as she is that everyone else is. They left things on a cordial note, but really she just realised that she was done letting him walk all over her romantically and she gave herself a little pep talk to remind herself that she wouldn't be alone so long as she was a part of that business they call show. That was the start of her going into the romantic wilderness, and she honestly hasn't looked back. She's sure she wouldn't have achieved all that she has if he hadn't shown her exactly what it was that she _didn't_ need in her life. She supposes she should thank him for that

She preps them all before Jesse comes over, telling them that she's invited him for drinks and if anybody has a problem with that then they can catch up with her at another time. Quinn, Mercedes and Kurt just shrug and accept it, and Puck does too after Quinn puts a directing hand on his forearm. Finn is about to protest, but stops himself. He really wants to be around Rachel, and he isn't so sure that she'd pick him over Jesse this time, so he begrudgingly holds his tongue and shelves his ill thoughts.

When Jesse finds himself beckoned over to a group of people he betrayed, he's greeted coldly, but he isn't hit, so he guesses there's a silver lining somewhere in there. They make their way to a bar that's cool and underrated and a little off the beaten track. The evening starts off with a horribly uncomfortable air, but after a few drinks, the not-so-subtle angry looks turn into laughter, as the event that once nearly brought down their glee club is remembered fondly, with jokes being made ("Remember when you threatened me with a rape whistle?" He'd asked Rachel jovially whilst she sent him a mock-glare and replied "In my defence, it was a really bright light, bright enough to daze a girl into submission").

It's only Finn that remains steely towards him. Sure, he'd laugh politely at the right moments and had given him a brief congratulations, but whenever Rachel isn't paying attention he sends Jesse a look that could kill, as if he's infringing upon a line Finn had drawn in the sand years ago, marking Rachel as his property.

She notices the animosity Finn is sending Jesse's way, (Finn may have a voice, but he isn't a great actor so his attempts at hiding his discontent don't work so well), and she tries to assuage it, but her attempts at calming Finn have the opposite effect on Jesse. Jealousy boils under his skin as Rachel's attentions are focussed on somebody else, and not just _somebody,_ but Finn Hudson of all people. Still, he can at least hide it, and the more agitated he gets the more charming he seems.

By the end of the evening he's settling the bill (the others called it retribution, but he's more than happy to comply). He's genuinely had a good time, and discovered that age has bettered them all in a way he never would have believed it could.

And maybe Finn was being an ass over the entirety of the evening, and maybe he had somehow still managed to divert too much of Rachel's attention for Jesse's liking, but all in all he'd say that this night was a success, even if it was costing him.

He throws the money owed down on the bar, and the barkeep nods an acceptance. He isn't expecting to find all one hundred feet of Finn standing directly behind him, but he does, and the taller man looms dangerously over him. He notices the smell of alcohol that reeks from Finn, and his slightly glazed demeanour, threatening him a haphazard manner.

Jesse knows what Finn's doing before he even speaks. He's marking his territory and telling Jesse to back the hell off. Because if Jesse's noticed the glances Finn's been sending Rachel's way, then Finn has noticed that stares that he's been directing towards his co-star. He's stuck between being glad that Rachel has people looking out for her (even if he's the presumed enemy in this situation) and being pissed that Finn doesn't realise that he's not in the business of breaking Rachel Berry's heart anymore, and nor does he want to be.

He wants to be in the business of loving and cherishing it instead.

"Stay away from her St James." Finn tells him simply, as Jesse brushes past him and away from the bar that was confining their confrontation. This really isn't the Finn he remembers. Sure, he never liked the guy, but he knew that he was a gentle giant, who was more clueless than malicious, and just didn't have the intelligence to correctly sort out his priorities before he'd lost them. This version of him seems bitter and jaded, like the world has chewed him up and spit him out, then done it all over again. This version was jealous and angry and noticeably alone.

Ok, so maybe age hasn't bettered _all _of them.

"I think it's time to get you back to your hotel." Jesse replies, trying to be diplomatic and not engage in a battle over something neither of them has. He sees Rachel, and begins to call her over, with Puck behind, telling her silently that he's dealing with a difficult situation and he doesn't think he's the best person to solve it.

But before she manages to play peace-maker, Finn takes matters in a direction that nobody had been expecting, with a reaction that hadn't really been provoked. The gentle giant was gentle no more.

There's a disgruntled, drunken snort, a retort that's more aggressive than necessary, and a fist cocked back, and then brought forward with an almighty force.

Skin touches skin. Rough, calloused knuckles connect with the smooth-shaven jaw, and a low, foreboding thud sounds.

The next thing Jesse feels is the floor.

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I hope you liked it, and I will try to get the next chapter out quickly, but it only has snippets written. Hopefully it will be out at some point towards the end of the next week, if not before.

**Please REVIEW! It is really great to hear feedback (and it makes my fingers type way faster)**


	3. No Envy No Fear

He isn't sure where it comes from, or what so provokes Finn, but he thinks he may, potentially, black out a little as he stumbles backwards.

Rachel is by his side in no time, her interest suddenly fixed on him. Puck is busy rushing Finn outside whilst he tries valiantly to resist, shouting apologies to the brunette star, but none to the man he hit. In return he receives an angry glare before Rachel focuses her all of her attention on Jesse, who is trying, and failing to regain his bearings, groping for a chair to drag himself up on.

She doesn't really know what just happened, she doesn't know if Finn was being a jerk or was goaded, but she doesn't really care. She felt a sort of physical pain when she saw Jesse go down, and she doesn't understand what that means, only that she hates that he got hurt, and she's pretty sure it was because, or over, her.

Because she isn't blind, and she isn't dumb, and she knows that Finn has divided his time equally between trying to woo her and kill Jesse with his eyes all evening. And similarly, she knows that Jesse still has residual feelings for her, mainly because she knows she has residual feelings for him too. Nevertheless, high school was a long time ago, even if she's still trying to move past it.

And this love triangle, or whatever it is, doesn't impress her, and Finn doesn't impress her, and really, she's so over this drama. At one point in her life she thrived on it, and two boys so openly fighting over her in high school might have made her world a little bit, but she isn't in high school anymore, and neither are they, and this jealousy thing is so played out that she's surprised it has managed to manifest itself _again_. Surely things like this don't happen in reality. People don't get knocked out over feelings that were just left over from a bygone age unless they're on television.

She strokes the hair that falls over Jesse's brow out of his eyes, as she helps him pull himself up onto a chair. She can see the manager looking at them worriedly and the bar is buzzing with gossip and pointed stares, the general public flocking to the scene of aggression, revelling in the discomfort of others and feeding off of their experiences. She thinks, perhaps, she should blame him a little for being famous enough to provoke a myriad of whisperings about _the _Jesse St James being decked by another man, but she can't even imagine bringing herself to be irrationally mad at him right now.

She doesn't realise her eyes are welling up with tears until she registers the concern in his orbs and his thumb strokes away the droplet that begins to roll down her cheek.

She isn't convinced she knows what to say in this sort of situation. She's prepared lines for nuclear holocausts and acts of God, but she isn't primed for this eventuality, so she smiles, embarrassed somewhat by her display of emotion and by his response. Instead of speaking she elects to wait for him to lead the conversation, but he just looks at her in a way that she hasn't really caught him doing all that much before. He's shot her looks of awe and admiration, and maybe of lust and perhaps even of love at times in their history, but he's never really _looked _at her so unabashedly and unapologetically, with his gaze making her feel a million different things at once. He's never been so pure and dangerous all at the same time.

Then he laughs, just a little, and takes his hand off of her cheek to rub his jaw, which cries with a pain he doesn't want her to try and share. He attempts to reassure her silently, but still, she breaks the quiet with an unnecessary apology.

"I'm so sorry." She isn't sure if he knows quite how she's reacting. She suspects he probably does.

"You don't have to worry about it." He tells her, but it doesn't assuage her train of feeling. He licks the corner of his mouth and tastes the metallic sting of his blood. He didn't mean for her to take it as a sign that this is her fault, or more than it is, but she does.

"Shit, Jesse." She begins, and he shakes his head, opening his mouth to cut her off, but she won't let him. She's in one of her I'm-Rachel-Barbara-Berry-And-I-Have-To-Get-This-Out modes, so he could shout at the top of her lungs and she'd still start.

"I knew he'd do this, I saw him hesitate when I said you had to come to drinks with us. And then all of the looks that he was giving you. Why the hell did we leave you in here with him? Unsupervised? We should have known better, _I _should have known better. Quinn always tells me about how Finn isn't doing so well, and about his run-ins with alcohol, and then I let him drink, and look at me like he was looking at me, and look at you like he was looking and you, and...God...I practically _let_ him punch you. Even in high school...he was always the most aggressive towards you, but I thought he would have gotten over his adolescent..._crush_ by now, really."

And despite his best attempts, he can't interrupt as she continues, ranting about her fault. He can't stop her pacing and worrying, orating her thoughts, even as everyone except Finn and Puck come back in to say goodbye.

He wants to tell her that she isn't to blame for the other man's actions, and he's ok, really, and he isn't all that mad at Finn for hitting him either, because he knows better than anyone that you don't really just _get over_ Rachel Berry and the _crushes_ she incites. If the man threw a few punches, then he was probably heading in the right direction.

It takes him trying (and failing) to stand to pull her out of her tirade. He hopes to calm her, place a reassuring hand on her shoulder and slow her down. Unfortunately, his encounter with Finn's fist has shaken him enough to throw his balancing skills as he stumbles up, and then promptly down again. Like a flash she is once more studying him in silence, concerned for a moment with his anguish and not with her guilt.

"Ok." She resolves, settling on a course of action. "We need to get you out of here. It's loud and it's dark and that can't be conducive to..."

"Rachel." He interrupts, before she can start again, and he draws her eyes to him. She takes a deep breath as she grins unconvincingly, and he knows that whilst physically he's going to bear the brunt of the damage, she's emotionally reacting to this fight more than he's planned on doing. "Let's just go."

"Your apartment is closer. It'll be easier to get you sorted out there." She states, with no room for argument, so he just nods and takes her palm in his; once again internally remarking at how well it fits.

And it makes him smile, just a little, to see how the tables have turned. It used to be him that guided and coerced her, manipulating her into his corner before she had a chance to realise that she wasn't just fighting for herself anymore. Now she quite literally leads him by the hand, and he doesn't resist her direction.

In high school, he had loved her in his way, and she in hers, but their relationship was never one of equals.

And despite the fact that it took a smack to the face to make him see it, he loves that they're on the same level now. It makes him want to aspire and reach and do all those things he once preached about, and he doesn't just want to do it for himself anymore.

Come to think of it, he starts to consider thanking Finn for providing him with a free epiphany.

They catch a cab once they can hail one, and when they reach his apartment he tries to pay, but she insists that it's her treat, and his wallet is a lot more difficult to manoeuvre than he remembers. Similarly, he hands her the keys to his place, accepting that he's feeling a little off kilter and it'll just be quicker this way.

Once they get inside his penthouse she immediately heads to try and find him aspirin and an ice pack, whilst he lies himself out on the couch. He doesn't even register that this is a milestone in their relationship; she hasn't been in his apartment until now. What he doesn't know is that in the elevator ride up it was all she could think about, (well, that and the fact that her ex-boyfriend had just hit her ex-ex-boyfriend). She had tried not to fantasize about the way his apartment would feel, or what them reaching this stage might mean, but, as always, her mind ran riot.

Some things never change, she supposes.

She thinks, as she searches for an ice pack in the fridge somewhere, that this place suits him, and it _feels_ like him. It's sleek and stylish, with very few personal photographs or effects (although she noticed how proudly he'd placed the picture of him with his parents at the Emmys, and she can't say she disapproves of the lack of Vocal Adrenaline paraphernalia), but there is an element of it that just seems to be like home, despite the impersonality of it all.

Maybe it has something to do with its location; a beautiful penthouse closer to Broadway than she could have imagined, with views that bombard and seduce her all at once.

Or, maybe, it has something to do with the person who lives in it.

But that's a dangerous thought; her and him and things feeling like _home_, so she tries to shun it as soon as she thinks (dreams) of it.

She picks out a packet of frozen peas from his freezer (although she'll have to rebuke him later for not having easily accessible ice packs despite the nature of his profession) and goes back out to join him as he pushes himself up on the pillows. She settles right next to him and gently turns his face so that they are merely centimetres apart, before she softly places the bag of frozen peas on his jaw.

"I'm fine, Rach." He reassures her tenderly, gazing piercingly into her eyes, trying to placate the worry that he finds there. His heart rate spikes as he breaths in her air. It's all he wants to do to make her feel better. He thinks maybe, what with her caring for him in the way she is, that it's all that she wants to make him feel the same. "It's nothing that rest and a bit of makeup won't sort out. Nobody in the audience will have any idea come tomorrow night."

He registers her face dropping in horror at that last comment, though he isn't wholly sure what he's said wrong. He thinks she's going to say something, anything, but instead she just replaces her hand with his so that the peas stay in place, and then gets up, walking towards the window, staring out at the bright lights.

He misses her being right there as she puts what seems to him to be miles of distance between them, and he misses her delicate touch that appears so far away.

"Rach? You OK?" He asks, worried about her sudden change in demeanour.

"You'll be fine for the _audience?_" She retorts, quietly but with aggression, and maybe a little bit of bitterness. He still isn't quite sure he gets what she's trying to fight with him about, so he continues to just stare at her dumbly, imploring her to continue. He knows that she will, because it's who she is, and she can't resist making the most of her diva moments.

"I cannot believe I thought you'd really gone and _changed_ on me! But no, you're still the same old Jesse who thinks about the job first and the people later." She began to really trust him, and really build an affinity towards him, and now she can't stand that he seems to care more about repercussions on the stage, rather than off it. (And maybe she knows that she's taking things way out of context, but it's been a long evening, and he knows that the emotional damage of her worry is manifesting itself in this overreaction).

"I have changed." He replies to her in soft, resolute tones. He won't rise because he's not sure how well he'd hold up, and he knows that what she's spouting is complete bullshit; he's confident enough to keep his cool.

"Then why are you caring about covering everything up for the next performance? That isn't normal Jesse. Most people would think about the fact that they just got hit! Most people would care why, and what it all means _personally_." She regards him, and he looks a little taken aback by her accusations. Still, he's not mad at her, she knows that, and somewhere, deep down, she knows that maybe she isn't all that mad at him either.

"Rachel." He answers, standing slowly and carefully from his position. He's not quite as dizzy when he rises this time, and he keeps his actions soft and cautious. "Since when have I ever been _most people_."

In most situations she would reply _Never_, and even as she thinks about it in her head, she imagines a smile gracing her features and her running towards him, into his embrace, an apology for her amateur dramatics gracing her lips.

But she's far too stubborn, and something about his preoccupation with his work hits a little too close to home and resonates a little too much with their history, whether purposeful or not.

So she stands there, scowling, as he glides gradually towards her.

"That isn't what I meant" she says in a defiant tone, but in a way he's just given a pretty ideal response.

He lets out a sigh; it really is too late for this, and she really should understand that he's relating their personal lives back to work because it's too treacherous an area for them to traverse at this stage in their relationship. He doesn't want to ruin what they've got with a big, pink elephant in the room, which at the moment is quite successfully masquerading as a tiny, grey mouse at best.

He doesn't want to get in the way of his own happiness again, or of hers.

"I know," He replies, and he stands close to her, both of them framed by the window that they stand in. It's all he can do not to take her in his arms, and capture her lips, and she's looking at him like perhaps if he says the right words, she might just have to resist the same thing. "But Rachel, Finn hit me, and I think you know why, and I don't want that to ruin whatever it is that we're building here with that."

She mulls over what he says for a moment, trying to piece together the best reaction, the reaction that is best for _both _of them. On the one hand, of course she knows what he's talking about, and she understands him protecting what they have, but on the other hand, his avoidance is merely restricting what they can be, and she's mad at him for doing that, for building a glass ceiling that they're just going to hit.

But he cuts her off, because he doesn't need her to speak to know what she's going to say. He can read her like a book in these instances, when she's too conflicted to only display her emotions internally.

"I'm not trying to box us in, but...remember when you told me that you'd die, figuratively, if I broke your heart?" She nods, confused a little by where he was going with this, "Well, I get that now, and I get it with you. Rachel, I need you to trust me, and I'm not really sure that you do." She begins to protest vehemently to his accusations, but he doesn't let her rebuke him, "Rachel, it's ok. I get that our past defines who we are now, and you're focussed on your career, and so am I. I'd just rather have what we have now, as opposed to nothing."

Tears once more filter through into her eyes as she looks up at him. Jesse St James is not renowned for being exposed and sentimental without an agenda, but he's speaking from the heart to her now in a way that she's not seen him do before. She feels the swell of her own heart and realises that she's right back on that Carmel High stage, melodrama, love and all. In many ways, with him, she always has been.

"Is that what you think?" She asks him sadly, "That it's this or nothing?"

He looks at her in answer, and he isn't ashamed of his semi-confession. For what may be the first time he isn't scared of his vulnerability, instead he embraces it. Tonight she's sung with him, talked with him, laughed and loved with him, looked after him, _lived_ with him.

For once in his life he refuses to apologise for his humanity.

And he's asking her a silent question (because a verbal one is a step too far at this point), imploring her to tell him that he's wrong, that what happened in the past defines nothing anymore, that they've both become better versions of themselves, that there is something there worth risking it all for. He didn't mean to take her down this road, but now that they're there, he can't stop and turn around without a reaction.

And she isn't really sure she can comprehensively answer him without rambling on for a hell of a long time, before he finally finds a way to silence her, or just boots her out the door. She wants to tell him that she's ready, ready to accept who he is now without who he was then, ready to tell him that those feelings that she's harbouring are more serious than she's been letting on to anyone, including herself.

But she isn't convinced that she can pour her thoughts into words, not in a way that feels right. Not without fear, and doubt, and trepidation.

So instead she just tells him the mantra that she's had for years now, always giving her a justification for the isolation she so often felt.

"I just...I always thought that it was...that it _is_...lonely...at the top"

"Doesn't have to be"

He replies quickly to her assertion, as if he's been expecting her to say it and he knows exactly how to knock her hypothesis on its ass whilst he sweeps her off her feet.

If ever there was a perfect answer, he just said it.

And the way that he's looking at her, the way he was looking at her earlier, it's so new and yet so familiar, and she thinks that that look might just say all that needs to be said. She hopes he sees it on her face too, as she smiles coyly and blushes just a little, because, even if she can't _say_ it, she wants him to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she's _feeling_ it.

He's holding back from her though. Sure, he's saying all the right lines, and he's giving off all the right signals, but he is yet to break the physical boundary that she's set. She can see his lips twitch slightly, and he's resisting pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. He knows that they can still recover from this, he can say he was dazed and she can laugh and nod, but as soon as something physical, something tangible, happens, then they are stuck, and that's where he stops being so sure.

Because maybe they'll get stuck in a place where they'll find incomprehensible happiness, and they'll find it together, (and yes, he knows how clichéd that is, but he's open to the possibility), but maybe they'll just get stuck in a sort of limbo, reaching for something that isn't quite friendship, but can't really be anything else.

He isn't sure which thought scares him more.

She's a little thrown off balance by this side of Jesse, this sweet, insecure version that she wasn't sure existed under his layers and layers of show faces and bravado, and she's thrown a little more by quite how much it intensifies what she's feeling. In light of this, this new facet of the only boy who she's ever found to be her professional (and personal) equal, everything, since the time that they first met at the music store, seems to be shrouded in a new light.

Because the more she thinks about it, the more she believes that ever since Jesse St James has been a part of her life, she's always been thinking of him, if only on a subconscious level. He's tainted her history, her present and most probably her future.

Even her relationship with Finn is feeling more and more like a response to the heartbreak he inflicted, and very little else; just something she was a part of to spite Jesse. Every moment since she's met him, all the great and the small, all the ones that he was there for and all the ones that he wasn't, seem half defined by him, and half by her. She thinks that that's the way that it should be when you really find somebody; that they should give to you, and take a part of you, and you both coexist half way between.

She's coming to realise that he permeates her life in a way that she has never let anything before.

And she finds herself really wishing that he'd just kiss her already.

Because everything - her singing, her acting, her city, her _life _- is starting to seem too small for her, like maybe it isn't quite enough to have everything she'd ever dreamed of since she was a little girl. She's coming to find that she can be great without him, but even greatness has a limit. Onstage she's known it all along, but now, in her personal life, she's feeling it too, feeling that with him by her side she isn't quantified in terms like "great" or "breath-taking", but instead can't be quantified at all.

When she's with him, she's infinite, and now nothing else seems big enough.

But he's not going to make the move, because he still doesn't have faith that he's paid a proper penance for his sins. And maybe he hasn't, maybe he's still got more to prove to her, but now she's sure that he'll prove it when the opportunity arises. Had she been asked for that conviction, that belief in him, at the beginning of the evening, she may have not felt it like she does now, but this evening has been one of the longest of her life. The rise and fall of the curtain seems like another lifetime ago, not just a few hours. She didn't know time had the capacity to stretch like this, with every minute being full of emotion and action.

But something, over the course of it all, has fundamentally changed within her.

It's something that he cottoned onto a while ago, and whilst he isn't exactly writing down how much he loves Rachel in some diary, he has been functioning with an awareness of his feelings towards her for a while, maybe even since he lost her the first time. She's only now accepting that she's been feeling it too.

And so, as he's about to say something that feels a lot like an "It's getting late", she grabs his hand. There's a moment, a spark, that ignites something within them, and they both know that there is no going back from this, no pretending anymore. She's broken that invisible barrier that they'd set up, and now their unrequited subtext is not subtext anymore.

He doesn't know quite how it happens, whether her touch gives him the confidence to lean down, or she's had some sort of revelation that's prompting her to lean up, but somehow their lips just meet in the middle. The kiss is soft and tenuous at first, with their hands still intertwined in each other, but as they sidle closer to each other he deepens the kiss, reaching his hands up into her hair whilst she runs one hand up and down his back and uses the other to grasp onto his neck as they stand there, the bright lights of Broadway behind them, the perfect and only conceivable setting for their reconciliation.

Somewhere amongst it all words are mumbled and exchanged, and mixed up with the soft moans of names come the intimate rumbles of "I love you"s. They aren't defined, and neither knows who said it first; it doesn't really matter anyway, as long as they both _feel_ it.

She starts to pull him by the shirt towards his bedroom, all thoughts of concussion far from his mind (although that isn't to say he doesn't feel light headed-it's just a _different_ kind of light headed). It isn't until he's laying her down on his bead that he realises that they've gone from 0 to 60 in a matter of moments, and they're already reaching a stage which they've never traversed before.

"How did we get here?" He asks her, smiling down at her rumpled form that lies stretched on his bed, "You were just biting my head off a couple of seconds ago."

She's tempted to rebuke him for ruining the mood, but he doesn't really (nothing can), and she can't say she blames him for slowing them down a little, and gaining a bit of perspective. He's consciously trying not to push her like he used to, and she loves him for the thought.

So she answers him simply, "You were right." She props her arms up on the pillows as he stands, gazing at her from the foot of the bed.

"Well there's something I like to hear." He replies cheekily, with a smirk gracing his features.

"This is a dangerous step." She continues, ignoring him, "But, you were wrong about it being that or nothing. We were never _nothing, _Jesse."

"I know that." He replies strongly to her assertion, and she although she loves that she's seen a new side of him tonight, she can't help but love this confident version of him just as much, "I was just waiting for you to catch up."

"I'm caught up." She confirms, and it's all he needs to be right there with her, in control, kissing her like it's all he can do.

This night, this rollercoaster, is culminating in a way that he would have never dreamed (and that he was trying to deny even thinking about not all that long ago), but now that they are here, finally, after years apart, tears shed and blood spilled, something about it all just _makes sense._

In this they are both right and wrong, both the most dangerous and safest thing to each other, both hopelessly human and totally divine.

They are both perfect and imperfect all at the same time.

But all of it fades into a background of paradoxes and emotion, becoming secondary to their union and integral to it all at the same time.

Because all that really matters is each other.

They are their own.

They are one.

* * *

When he wakes in the morning, he's surprised by how refreshed he feels in spite of his lack of sleep. He's never been a morning person, but he slowly begins to comprehend his surroundings as his senses start to turn on.

The sun that seeps through the blinds casts a light shadow over the room. He feels a dull throb in his chin, a reminder of an epiphany he had.

But he feels the lack of another warm body in his bed far more acutely.

He stumbles out of bed, putting on some boxers as he goes, and slowly opens the door into the living room. She's standing there, in the early glow of the morning, with no makeup and bed head, the low sun providing a backlight which illuminates her. She holds a white sheet around her torso, grasping the folds of it tightly to her chest, but letting it drop on her back, exposing her flesh.

He's never been privy to her looking so low-maintenance. The sight of it takes his breath away.

She's staring out of the window, deep in thought, which sort of worries him, because he's scared that she's going to turn around and say that last night was a mistake, that it shouldn't have happened, despite all of her previous reassurances.

He coughs gently, making her aware of his presents, and she turns to face him with an expression he can't quite read.

"Good morning." He smirks gently at her and she returns a soft smile and an innocent blush.

"Morning." Her tones are tender and contemplative, as he walks over to her and places a sweet kiss on her lips, before he drinks in the sights of the city below and the girl right next to him. If ever there was an inevitability, he thinks that this might be it for both of them.

"Last night was..." He trails off as he catches her eyes, so full of something he can't quite put his finger on.

"I know." She answers, because she really does. She knows that there are no words, nothing tangible with which they can mark themselves anymore. They're beyond that.

"So what's wrong?" He asks, because if this is it he really wants to know. She's being distant and thoughtful, and he's taking the approach that ripping the band aid off quickly is less painful than peeling it off slowly.

She smiles a little at his question, because he knows her so well, and he knows that something is on her mind, even if it's stupid.

"Do you regret what happened?" His question interrupts her thoughts and she's quick to look up at him, in dismay that he'd assume that.

"Oh my god, no, Jesse, of course not." She reassures him, and he finally feels like he can maybe take a breath.

"Ok then. Good to know. Then what?"

"Promise me that you won't hate me for saying this. I'm just thinking out loud here, and it can sometimes...come out wrong." She says.

"I promise." Because he knows that she's wound up about something, and over-thinking it all. If she's considering getting out, then he isn't going to give her reasons to stay, he's done that already. And if she's just being a drama queen over something menial, then he's going to laugh and placate her. No anger, no over-excessive drama (on his part at least).

"I just, I love my job, and you love yours." So, he figures, this is about work, not play, perhaps about how work will affect play or vice versa.

"I won't ask you to put me first, and you won't ask me." She tells him, because she can't quite make sense of it all in her head, so instead she puts it out in the open, and she puts it to him, "But don't we both need somebody who _will_ do that? I mean, we're both Type A, melodramatic, career minded divas." He lets out a little laugh at that, and its implications, mainly because he knows it's true, "And, don't we need a check on that, somebody to balance us out? Somebody who isn't going to have a meltdown at the same time as us?"

"I just need you." He says with his trademark smirk as he leans down, pressing his lips to hers in another chaste kiss.

"Cheesy, St James. Very cheesy." She speaks into his lips and she can feel him smile against her as he pulls her into his arms.

"See? Simultaneous meltdown averted. Easy."

"Don't get any ideas. Next time I may not be so consolable. You've been warned." She pulls away from him slightly, and reaches up to stroke the dim, purple bruise that is present. She laughs a little, at how that act of violence really prompted them moving towards each other and getting it together.

"I cannot believe Finn hit you." She giggles, and he squints his eyes at him, playing at being hurt.

"I can!" He exclaims, "That guy was always an ass! Singing Jessie's Girl to you when I was out of town? Total douche move." She shakes her head playfully at him, and he grins at her like a Cheshire cat, looking sweet, but suspiciously innocent.

"Anyway, I think I had it coming. Puck hit me nine years ago, Finn was just a little slow on the uptake." Rachel's mouth drops at that revelation, but Jesse continues to look happy and jovial, letting her know not to get into any fights over bygones.

She hears the kettle she put on brewing in the kitchen, so, with a final kiss, she turns in his arms, moving, albeit reluctantly, from his embrace, the sheet she clutches to her chest trailing behind her and hanging loosely down her back.

And he watches her go, smiling to himself, and thanking his lucky stars that he's getting a second go at this. All he genuinely wants is her, and he won't jeopardise that for anything. He needs her to know that.

"Hey, Rach." He calls out to her from across the room and she turns back around to face him, "It isn't going to be easy."

"I know."

"But that doesn't mean it isn't going to be perfect."

She contemplates running into his arms and jumping him right there and then, or she thinks maybe she could get away with using that whole 'cheesy' thing again, but something about what he says, and how he says it, lets her know that he's not just trying to get some, and he's not just being a clichéd.

He's being genuine.

And he loves her; really, truly loves her.

And she feels exactly the same way.

"I know."

* * *

_ Whenever I'm alone with you  
You make me feel like I am home again  
Whenever I'm alone with you  
You make me feel like I am whole again  
Whenever I'm alone with you  
You make me feel like I am young again  
Whenever I'm alone with you  
You make me feel like I am fun again_

However far away I will always love you  
However long I stay I will always love you  
Whatever words I say I will always love you  
I will always love you

_-The Cure-Love Song-_

* * *

**A/N: So, so sorry for the wait! I've had exams etc, so am pretty busy at the moment.**

**This is the third and final part of my St Berry fic! I hope that you have all really enjoyed it. I cannot thank you guys enough for the support that you've given me over this! I genuinely can't put into words what it means to have such a positive response. So thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. I hope you continue to do so!**

**And, as a bit of a thank you, for both your patience with me and your reviews, for your entertainment, this is a sneak peek of a new concept for another St Berry. It isn't written yet, but let me know if it sufficiently piques your interests!**

"_**And so they are outcast people in a society obsessed with perfection and normalcy. She has never known it before, what it feels like to genuinely not care about status or garnering admiration, and something in her tells her it is new to him too.**_

_**But if they were going to be pariahs, at least they'd do it together."**_

**Once again, thanks so much and don't forget to review!**


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